Cupid's Addict
by January Rose
Summary: Lily is in the common room, minding her own business. James has other ideas. Outsert from my upcoming story.
1. Secret

Secret

by January Rose

_Cool these engines _

_Calm these jets _

_I ask you how hot can it get _

_And as you wipe off beads of sweat _

_Slowly you say, I'm not there yet_

_I know I don't know you _

_But I want you so bad _

_Everyone has a secret _

_Oh, can they keep it?_

_Oh no, they can't _

Maroon 5

That night, I was sitting there by the fire place, by myself, _minding_ my own freaking business, while rereading a Sherlock Holmes Mystery for the umpteenth time (Arthur Conan Doyle so rocks, but we can discuss this later) when James walked into the otherwise deserted Common Room. Unusually, he was unescorted by any of the other Marauders, a member of his unnervingly large 'fan club', as Birch had deemed it, or a busty ditz of a blonde girl (i.e. his latest paramour). This seemed to be his almost unfailing fetish (myself not included on both counts of bust size and hair color), and another reason, come to think of it, to disbelieve and discount his apparent affections for me.

Anyways, since this seemed to display a growth on his part as a person, you know, with him being less egotistical and pigheaded and all lately (okay, for the last year and a half) I decided, on good faith, to give him a small, but nonetheless cheery wave. (The miniature, but in no way less sarcastic Birch who had taken up residence in the lower left corner of the back of my mind gave me a mock curtsy, and exclaiming "Gee, thanks, your highness! How lovely of you to even take notice of us little people so far below you! Now, can I lick your shoes, perhaps…." But I quickly pushed her out of my mind). Make absolutely no mistake, whatsoever, this was not in any way, shape or form and invitation to come over and sit with me, or for a jolly conversation for two, or _really_ for anything but a returned wave, but he seemed to ignore both this footnote, and my lack of intentions, or else he did not notice them. Bugger.

Not waiting to watch him walk up to his dorm, which I assumed was his destination, I returned to my reading and didn't realize he had detoured over to my chair until a shadow fell across the page and chair. I had barely raised my eyes from the page, and had not yet asked this unwelcome intruder in my perfected, yet polite go-away-voice what they required of me when the person reached down and snatched the book rather rudely out of my hands. It was only then that I realized that it was James standing, more like towering really, over me, holding my book in one hand and looking down his long, straight nose at me, obviously expecting **something**. The stupid boy obviously didn't realize that I didn't want to talk to him right now or ever if I was trying to stay on the safe side.

I looked right at him, stubborn and trying my hardest to be annoyed; I was at one of my favourite parts! I decided to attempt the polite approach first, seeing as the other usually ended up visiting the school matron with purple ears, or a green tongue, and I was getting sick of "rough courtship" jokes.

"James!" I half-shrieked at him, feeling very annoyed. "What the hell? Give me my bloody book back!"

Okay, so maybe not _exactly_ polite, but whatever, I was trying. I stared him down, silently counting down from ten in my head, and secretly wishing he would back down, waiting for some kind of indication that I would shortly be receiving my request. When I reached zero, and still had nothing but a James standing in front of me, with a searching look on his face, and the book I wanted to read in his hand, I decided to ditch the polite routine and go for the more direct Plan B. Without batting an eyelash, I lunged halfway out of my chair and towards my book, but four years of Quidditch practice allowed him to dance easily out of my clumsy way and I had to stop short to avoid falling out of the chair and landing flat on my face at his feet.

Hauling myself back into a proper sitting position, I looked up at him, suitably chasted for the moment, and smiled forcefully, figuring it the only way I would ever get to reread the ending of the Hound of the Baskervilles was to play along with whatever ridiculous scheme that was currently chasing its fluffy white tail around James' floppy haired head. Before I gave my final consent to this whole mad plot, whatever it was, I quickly glanced around the common room for an ally, an aid, a friend, _anyone_ to get me out of this, but we were alone, completely and totally alone… Crap.

Sighing defeat, and sincerely put out about it, I looked at him calmly, an angry fire alight in my eyes. "What do you want, Potter?" I asked grudgingly, almost grinding it out, and throwing his last name in too for good measure. If he was going to hold my book hostage, and I was going to have to play along, I wasn't going to be helpful or anything of that measure about it. The consent, however small or forced, seemed to be what he was waiting for.

Still, though, he paused before he spoke, and took a deep, calming breath that seemed to have no effect whatsoever. His face was pale and he was, I now noticed, chewing slightly on his bottom lip, as if he was trying to work up the nerve to say something risky. I couldn't think of anything, however, that could reduce cocky, spirited James Potter into the more-then-subtlety nervous wreck in front of me here. After much deliberation, he opened his mouth, and the question that came out shocked the shoes off of me. For a reason I did not comprehend, I rose to my feet.

"Do you love me, Lily?" he finally asked. I could see why he was so nerv—wait, what! No no no no no no no………

Whatever I had been expecting, this definitely wasn't it (He wanted to know what!) Help with a prank, maybe, or charms homework, sure, but a question about my feelings about and for him? It was a good thing I was already sitting down… I wasn't good at those! I blinked at him dumbly for a moment, watching a new kind of terror envelope his face as he waited for my response, and gaped at him like a fish, attempting to make sense of the chaos in my head, and sure that he said what I thought he said. Was this actually really truly happening? I resisted the urge to pinch myself just to be sure.

"What?" I finally breathed at him, my voice barely about a whisper as I repeated my primary sentiment. I couldn't believe this was happening. "James," I said, attempting to gain memento as I went "This is absolutely ridiculous! We're seventeen for Christ sake, and besides, we went to Hogsmeade together like once! You expect me to answer that? No, you expect me to be **able** to answer that?" The saddest part was that I could, but I wouldn't dare let him know that. I looked anywhere but at his face, in his eyes, sure as I was of my name that if I did, if I looked at him then he would somehow be able to tell, like they always seemed to in the movies. I knew, somewhere, in my panicked brain that this was probably a horrible tell, but I couldn't help it. I was in love, and terrified of him finding out, and of him knowing. I mentally crossed my fingers that he bought my lame story and just went away.

James however, thankfully or unfortunately I wasn't sure, remained unfazed by my diversionary tactic, and saw through my supposed answers. I had to fall for the rule-breaker…. "Lily, you didn't answer the question; do you love me or not?"

This time I ignored the question all together. "James, this is silly! Just give me my book back" I pouted theatrically "Common, please?" I tried to make my voice sound sweet and enticing, but I doubted it worked as well as I'd hoped. It probably came out whiny, or worse, anxious and terrified. In any case, I made another grab for my book, but he just lifted it higher over my head. I pouted again, this time for real.

He was beginning to look annoyed, and I knew that if I could just hold out for a small while longer, probability said that he would storm off, and I would be safe, for the moment. I just had to last a little while longer… "Lily, gods dammit, just answer the question and then you can have your precious book back!" At the word book, he waved the thing tantalizingly over my head, just out of reach, probably just to antagonize me "Do. You. Love. Me. Yes. Or. No?" he enunciated every word, making sure I had no way to escape, no further way to twist my answer…..

My mouth went dry, and finally, at a painfully slow speed, I looked up into his solemn face, finding it more serious then I could remember seeing it in a long time, He looked tired, too, and there were lines around his eyes that weren't there a month or so before. I took a deep, empowering breath, and then looked into his almond shaped eyes.

As Emerald met Hazel, I meant to say 'no', and I meant to mean it. I meant to grab my book from his disappointed hands and storm up to my dorm in a tither, then rant to whoever happened to be there about stupid men with stupid hair until they threatened to jinx me if I didn't shut up. As Emerald met Hazel, I meant to lye my heart out, no pun intended, but found that I couldn't and nearly laughed at how tacky and sad that was.

Not a ha-ha laugh, per say, but rather more the desperate and hysterical laughter of an insane woman, who was cornered, terrified, and sleep deprived. Not wishing to take a visit to St. Mungo's Mental ward, whether I belonged there or not, or be asked if I ever wanted to be a florist, I held it in until it hurt. I had to get a handle on this, I had to pull myself together….

I tried to look away, but gentle fingers came to rest under my chin and they tilted my face back up, and my eyes met his once more. They were warm, maybe the warmest eyes I had ever seen, and full of compassion and as I stared into those lovely wonderful eyes, I could feel my resistance physically cracking, and I wondered if my own legs would support me if I looked away.

I had a decision to make, insanity of confession, insanity or confession, insanity or confession….

"Yes!" I finally ground out, choosing confession. "I do, and I bloody well hate it!" If I was going to confess, I mused, as words poured freely from my mouth like water from a fountain, then I was going to confess, just dump it all on him and let him deal with it, for a change. "I don't want this! I don't want a stupid white knight, and I don't want any magic that they can't teach us in class. I just want to live my life, is that so much to ask?" I didn't wait for an answer, and he didn't try and give me one. "I don't **want **to be in love, especially not with someone as infuriating and maddening as you!" Something flickered across his face, but I wasn't about to break my developing stride to figure out what. "I can't stand you, and yet I can't get enough of you and I can't stop thinking about you. I don't want any of this, but you don't seem to care, do you? You're just there, and you exist, and you push, and you cajole and you serenade, and now her I am in **fucking** love with you!" I jabbed my finger into his chest, and felt abs I could do my bloody washing on, then cursed myself heavily for noticing. "But it doesn't matter!" I practically screeched at him, and in hindsight, I'm surprise no one in the dorms about heard me and came done to investigate. "I refuse to give into love! It doesn't matter, It doesn't matter," I was nearly chanting by now. "It doesn't fucking matter! I won't let it matter…. It doesn't matter, so just leave me alone, please!" My words sounded like a plea, even to my hysterical ears, and they probably were, but I didn't, _couldn't_, care right now….

I suddenly realized I was crying, sobbing even, tears falling freely, blackened no doubt by mascara and eyeliner so that they stained a darkened trail down my cheeks as they ran. Wiping them away angrily, I made one final grab for my book as a myriad of emotions flitted across James' face in rapid succession. This time, instead of merely dodging me and my attempt, James grabbed my wrist, and I realized suddenly that the book would have to be sacrificed if I wished to walk away from this with any shred of dignity intact.

I turned, intending to flee, but James hadn't let go of my wrist and refused, even when I tugged. My temper suddenly flared. He was going to make me face him, again. Fine. If that was how it was going to have to be, then that was good with me. I was a big girl, I would deal, but I wasn't going to go down without a fight.

I whipped around, and smacked him in the chest with my free arm. The only thing that this succeeded in doing was allowing him to grab that wrist as well and pull me in closer then I wished to be, so that my entire forearm was resting against his chest, elbows down, and close enough for me to feel his breath on my cheek. I leaned my head back to try and create even the smallest amount of room between our faces, but only succeed in tilting my face into alignment with his.

He crooked his neck down, so that his mouth was inches from my ear and whispered in it, his voice hoarse "Well, guess what, sweetheart?" I could actually feel his breathing against my arms, the actual rise and fall of his chest, as he pulled me closer still. I could smell the chocolate that always seemed to somehow be present on his breath, and the almost cinnamon-y scent of his aftershave… I felt myself lean in slightly, before I realized what I was doing. NOT GOOD! My rational side was screaming. My other side didn't really seem to care, and the two fought for dominance on the battlefield of my mind. "I didn't exactly plan this either, so let's deal." He pulled his face back of he could see my whole face, and then leant his forehead against my own.

My throat felt suddenly and inexplicably raw, and I felt almost dehydrated, dizzy and light-headed. The answer. He had the answer. He know how to stop all of this, how to deal.

"How?" I croaked, my voice cracking. I swallowed thickly, on the edge of my metaphorical seat for the answer to a question that had been plaguing me for months.

He smirked at me slightly, and looked straight into my eyes. And without even saying the answer we both seemed to realize at that moment aloud, he leaned forward slightly to close the scant space between our lips to kiss me. Even worse, I kissed him back without even hesitating, without reserve, without thinking about wrenching away for even a moment.

I remember that he tasted like mint. The customary chocolate that was just completely James too, of course, but there was definitely mint in there as well. I think this is the only time I can remember him having a minty taste.

It started off as a question, a needy kiss with a hint of almost desperation to it quickly escalated as raw passion quickly took over. Clearly deciding that I was no longer a flight risk, James released my wrists, wrapping one of his now-free arms around my waist to pull me closer and burying the other in my hair. The thought of running flashed through my mind, but then we were closer still and it suddenly seemed a stupid thing to do.

I moaned against his lips as all the pent up feelings that I had been harbouring seemed to disappear as I gripped his shoulders, bringing myself onto my toes to level out our faces some. All of it seemed to slowly seep out until I could almost feel it dripping off my fingers lie water. Why was I supposed to be fighting this again? I couldn't seem to remember.

He began backing me up, past my previously occupied armchair, and my now forgotten book into one of the pillars that flanked the large fireplace until I was up against it, and sandwiched between it and his warm body. Being with him, like this, seemed to feel oh so normal, normal and perfect… Something about that sent off warning bells in my head, but I was too involved in my actions, and his, to even begin to remember why… I pushed it out of my head. It didn't matter. All I wanted to do was kiss him, it all just felt so good… I wanted him so bad at that moment.

My fingers, almost of their own accord began to play and fiddle with the tiny hairs that lay at the very edge of his hairline on the back of his neck, and he began to kiss a trail down my jaw and onto my neck… Gawd he was so bloody _good_ at this… He pushed harder still against me, and I had the smallest of thoughts of the bruise and imprint I would soon have on my back flickered through my mind for but an instant, before his tongue against my throat drew my attention away from all reasonable or rational thought.

I slipped my hands underneath the hemline of his shirt and ran my hands over his ass before dancing my fingertips up his back, and then scratching my nails down his back in a way sure to leave a mark. I felt him shiver, and a giggle began in my throat. Seemingly taking my lead, he began almost ripping the buttons off my shirt in his attempt to get the thing off me, the material having no give at all for him to fit his hands under. He quickly rectified the situation, and ran his hands over the base of my bra, before easing his hands under the material. I didn't stop him. The thought never even crossed my mind.

Instead, I moved my head to the side running my fingers over and over the sensitive patch of skin that met the waistline of his pants and suddenly realized that I had also given him a much better view of what cleavage I had, momentarily, before I hauling his lips hungrily back onto mine so I could kiss him proper.

Deciding impulsively what I wanted, I began to undo this black jeans, first the belt, then the button and the zipper before letting his pants drop to his feet. Loosing my brazen approach for a moment, and suddenly hesitant of his response, I ran my fingers under the elastic of his plain black boxers, but did not remove them. As if to assure me that we were both thinking along the same lines, he ran a hand up my thigh, under my skirt, and grabbed my ass, lifting me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist. As we started to spiral out so control, something, or rather someone, reminded me that we were still in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"What the** HELL**!"

I started at the sound of the voice, attempting to detangle myself from James as best I could, a feat, considering I was pressed up against a pillar with my hands down his pants and my legs around his waist, to find Miriah and Angel standing in the entranceway. They were staring at me, there, with my shirt half open exposing my very showy black bra, which had one of James' hands beneath it, and my skirt hiked up around my waist, as I stumbled away from James, my hair all mused and my cheeks doubtlessly flushed. Rayne was bouncing behind the two of them, asking what the hold up was; she had obviously not sent the two of us; yet.

"And I repeat for freaking clarity, what the **_HELL_**!"

My fight or flight reflex kicked in, and I ran towards the girls' staircase, abandoning my book where it had been dropped, sprinting at a speed that in all probability topped some Olympic record of some kind. I crashing noisily through our dorm door, not looking back even once, and past shocked friends (A.k.a: Sarradell, Birch and Willow) who's questions I ignored as I threw myself onto my bed and pulled the curtains shut with all my might. There was almost a half a moment's stunned silence before the other three banged through the door, hot on my heels.

"Okay, what's going on here?" asked Willow, and I heard her bed creak slightly as she potentially got off of it "Someone, anyone?"

"Ask Lily." Rayne told her pointedly. "It's kinda the question of the minute, right up there with 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit?'"

"Okay" I heard Sarradell say, obviously trying to find some answer in the semi-chaos I had left trailed behind me "Back up, rewind, and tell us what you know."

"No, no, no, no, no!" said Birch, sounding matter of fact, "I believe wording you're looking for is 'Sit your asses down and tell me everything you know before I put a want to your throat, or better yet a blunt shovel' The most interesting bloody slobs of gossip are always served best with a threat." Silence filled the room following this comment, and in a better circumstance, I might have giggled. "What?" asked Birch, when it seemed like no one was going to answer her threat. "Was I too vague for you people? Common, chop, chop!"

"I have to agree with Birch for once. Spill, now."

"We just walked into an almost deserted common room to find the only two occupants, Lily and James, in a full out make-out strip session, and James had Lily pinned against the wall, and her hands where in his pants." Explained Miriah, when it seemed no one else was going to respond to Birch's question. "Is that to the point enough for you, Birch?"

"Yes, very good, continue."

"'Bout fucking time…" I heard someone mutter.

"And that's about it." She finished. "We need to find Lily, if we want to get to the bottom of this."

"You mean the red-topped blur that ran through here moments before you did?" Asked Sarradell, the picture of sarcasm. She has the perfect voice for it too, all dry sounding, and that. There was a pause, and I guess someone nodded or the like. "She's in her bed, though how her hangings are intact, I'll never know…"

I heard footsteps approach, and nearly cringed when my curtains were pulled back to reveal a serene looking Miriah and the rest of them crowded behind her. "Lily," she began calmly, as I lay there clutching my pillow in what could be described as the fetal position. "What the HELL is going on, here?" and that part was less calm… She's getting rather repetitive, though, wasn't she?

"Nothing" I lied, trying to buy myself time as I frantically searched my head for an excuse, any excuse, and wishing I had thought to do up my shirt, or fix my hair. "Why do you ask?" I tried to run my fingers through my hair surreptitiously, but Angel, the only person not crowded around the open side of my bed, she was actually sitting on her own, raised her eyebrows at me, and I put my hands down.

"Why?" she asked incredulously, as if she couldn't believe her ears, "I'll tell you why! You've been acting weird for months now, denying you like him, ever since September when you caved and went on like two dates with him, and now I walk into the Common room to find you about to screw him, and you're asking me why?" I could only think of a few times when I had seen her look so furious and so annoyed. "Now, tell me what the **fuck** is going on!" Apparently the swearing level had risen.

"There's nothing really to tell!" I insisted, my act no doubt somewhat diminished by the positioning of my skirt. The others, minus Angel, were crowding around my bed even more now, like spectators at a show, jostling for the best view, even though there were only five of them. I wished they would anything, anything but me… None of them looked away. "I just want to finish my book" I ignored the fact that it was sitting, spread-eagled, on the floor of the common room, several stories below.

"Nothing?" said Rayne, echoing me. She too, it seemed, was ignoring the illogic of my previous statement. "So, that was some other redhead down there, doing things you could never tell your mother with James P?"

I shrunk nervously into my pillows, uncertain how to answer this blatant question. Without meaning to, Birch saved me from providing an answer. "What are you on?" She asked, grinning widely. She was eating popcorn that she must have conjured when I wasn't paying attention, and she, at least, seemed to find the whole ting rather amusing. She was obviously trying to lighten the mood of the room, and it became even more obvious when she continued by asking "Can I have some too?" Thank _gawd_ for Birch, was all I could think, as everyone turned momentarily to look at the odd girl, and leaving me unwatched by hawk-like eyes since the moment Miriah had shoved my hangings open.

"Not now, Burr," remarked Sarradell absentmindedly, as if her mind was somewhere else, and not really paying attention to the girl's silly request. "We can by you fun and original drugs layer. Right now, we've got bigger fish to fry."

They all turned back to me now, and Willow raised her eyebrows quite high as she did, smirking, and mouthing 'Fish?' at someone or other. Meanwhile, Birch stuck her tongue out at Sarradell behind her back, and Miriah looked annoyed.

"Now that the Cashew gallery is finished with its dramatic production, can we turn back to the matter at hand?" She, too, didn't wait for an answer. "Lily, can you please just tell us, _me_, the truth? Please?" If I hadn't felt guilty before, this took the cake. Miriah was excellent at being pitiful.

"There's nothing to tell!" I repeated stubbornly, feeling more blameworthy by the moment, and _still_ trying to come up with something that these people, who knew me oh so well, would believe. Miriah would have come up with such a better story then me, I swear. It was her gift, really, but the only good it would do me now was hoping some of it rubbed off in the last seven years…

"Oh cut the crap, already, Lily." Said Willow, who, until now, had remained largely silent, at least compared to the others. "They saw what they saw, and unless you're going to claim insanity or a lapse in judgement or whatever, you owe them an explanation as to why you were scrogging that guy in our common room. So, please, just tell us the truth before Miriah goes and frizzes her hair more with worry." Even with the jokes thrown in, there was no joking in her tone.

Luckily for me, as the corner I was being backed into was becoming smaller by the second, a decent story finally arrived to my mind. A believable one, anyways, as long as no one looked for holes too closely or questioned me too thoroughly. In anycase it would have to do, unless I wished to learn to walk through walls.

"Fine!" I said suddenly, taking them all off guard. "You really want to know? Fine!" They all looked smug, and that alone took the bite off my guilt. "It's really stupid. I just wanted to see what it would be like to kiss him, and it got a little out of hand. All those girls have to have been onto when they were scribbling on the bathroom wall… and everyone's been going on about it, and I feel really stupid about it now, making out like that with a boy I barely like, and I feel really bad, cuz I think I lead him on…" I stopped to draw breath. They seemed to have bought it so far… The finish line was in view… "Now, I already feel like an idiot, and quite easy, too, and I don't really know what to tell you guys…" The key was in the ramble. You ramble, and people will believe almost anything you say, because you seem to have so much to say about it… It seemed to work for me, anyways…

That wiped the self-satisfied smiles off of everyone's face, and especially Miriah, who stood there gapping, apparently dumbstruck, which was a thing in its self. "Oh." Was all she said, taking an unconscious step back, her foot falling on Birch's, causing the smaller girl to call out, and drop some of her popcorn all over the floor as she tried to avoid falling over. "Oh." She repeated.

After she got out of Miriah's way, Birch glared at the floor, before swooping down to pick up a fallen kernel and examine it for a moment, before chucking it at my head like it was my fault. Then, suddenly, she looked up at me, trying to look innocent. "So," she asked. "How far d'you get? Just clothe-less snogging, or had the dirty touching started yet?"

In spite of myself, I let out a giggle, and then processed what she had said and reddened. "Birch! You can't— just— just— Birch!" I tossed a pillow at her in retaliation, both for the popcorn and the comment.

"What?" she asked, still the picture of innocence.

Still sitting on her bed, the whole time, smiling a little now, but her face contorted in thought and something that looked disturbingly like comprehension was Angel. I didn't know whether to thank her, or dread the confrontation later.

"This is really none of your business!" I finally managed to say, once my ability to speak returned. I threw another pillow at her head, before realizing that that rendered me pillowless.

Of course, she dodged it effortlessly, ruining my revenge plot and slight pillowless joy. "What?" she repeated "I have to get my rocks off somehow…"

Willow put a hand on the obviously nutty girl's shoulder. ""That's what Freddy's for, Bee, didn't you know?"

"Oooo!" said Birch, grinning broadly and rubbing her hands together in a rather cartoon-like fashion. "After-hour booty call… I'm liking this plan!" She laughed.

"Okay, on that disturbing note…" commented Rayne, who had now gravitated back to her bed now that the show was over, with a grin on her face. "Now, we will recommence bugging Lily about her base-running affair with James…" She stuck her tongue out at me, and I stuck mine out right back.

"Now that I have something else to amuse myself with," she gave me a demonic grin, that was really quite amusing, and not all that demonic at the moment. "This really doesn't concern any of us." I sat up suddenly, startled. What was she saying? "I mean, honestly, I don't really care. And neither should any of you, you sicko-perverts" the demonic grin was still present "Except maybe Sarradell and Willow, cuz Chris and Jesse have graduated, though between the two of us, you're not fooling any of us when you sneak off in Hogsmeade." Willow glared, and Birch simply gave her a teasing smirk. "But Lily's sizzling affair with a certain steaming Gryffindor Quidditch player/ messy-haired Head Boy" Way to narrow it down to one… "Has got to be confusing enough" she continued. "This whole thing is going to be abso-freaking-lutely killer to figure out, and I'm just glad it's not me at the end of this whip… again…" her eyes suddenly came alive and she turned her smirk towards me "I'm going to beraising your floppy-haired, emerald-eyed kids, I hope you know!" I giggled at her sudden random comment, though really I should have been used to it by this point.

"Was _Birch_ just insightful?" asked Miriah, her shell-shocked remark offset by a playful grin. "Wow." She seemed absolutely determined to skim over my possible death, and I could see why. The girl had _definitely_ lost enough people in her life so far. Or period.

"Why thank you Birch…" I told her. She smiled at me in her motherly way. "I think."

She wrinkled her nose, but otherwise ignored me.

"Only here to help!" she called over her shoulder, heading for the door. Turning just as she reached the door, she smiled slightly. "Wait a minute, no I'm not." And smirked a sly smirk worthy of Mr. Cheshire himself before opening the door and walking out into the hall.

"Where are you going now?" I called after her, not sure whether or not I was happy she was leaving.

"After hour booty call girls! Come on, keep up!" she smirked one last time. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a boyfriend to screw into a curly fry. Toodles!" And as she left, the only person persent who didn't seem to believe my story was Angel, who sat on her bed looking thoughtful and pensive. Angel, who had as of yet said absolutely nothing, and done nothing except look disbelieving, and then comprehending. **Fuck.**

**Disclaimer:** The characters in this story, beyond any of the ones mentioned in the novels, are mine. The Lyrics at the top of the page are the copyright of Maroon 5.


	2. Vindicated

The morning after my exciting common room adventure, as Miriah had already began calling it, was a Saturday, thank the lord. A Saturday meant many things, most of them fun, but it also meant the possibility of avoiding James, if I wished to, and not only did I wish to, but I also very much needed to. I knew what he would think. James was not a player, not if you saw the word the way I did. He believed in love before sex, and probably didn't sleep with the majority of the many girls he dated. James was a nice boy, for all his quirks. Despite all the road signs devised to tell and show you otherwise, this is the core and entire truth. At the end of the day, he was the exact type of boy you could take how to mum and dad. And nice boys, like him, would probably think sex, or in our case almost-sex, meant something. He probably thought it meant that I had finally caved to his fiery kisses and the sizzling looks. The kind that left nothing to the imagination as to what exactly he, _we_ would be doing if only I would concede. He probably thought this meant I would say yes next time, that things where different now, instead of the ugly, unchanged truth.

And so, that Saturday, I hid shamefully, as no girl had hid before. I wasn't one for confrontation, and I didn't feel like making up more excuses, not to him. There may be chemistry, and there was definite sparkage as only the great romances could know, but then again, that was the problem. I didn't want a great romance, or love, or any of that crap. I was afraid, if I would let myself admit it. I had said so, just the night before, hadn't I? I had said that, and then I had let him put his hands on me, all over me, and worse my hands had gone far farther then his own. My hands had been there right back. There would be no more excuses. There would be no more lies. There was only truth, and that was the scariest thing I could think of. But still nothing had changed.

I haunted our dorm room as long as I possibly could without drawing the suspicion of my friends, suspicion that would be easily drawn, I expect, after last nights little adventure, and I desperately wanted them to believe that all was right as rain, whatever that meant, lest I had to explain. I would already have to tell Angel, if her expression last night was any indication of how much she believed my story, a.k.a not at all, and the fewer people involved in my melodrama, the better.

When I could no longer stay put without a decent reason, I slinked out of our dorm, thinking maybe I'd ask Regan to stash me in the Ravenclaw Common Room, where James could not find me. I was thinking up excuses when I ran right into someone on the stairs, and had to grab the railing to stop myself from toppling over, possibly down to my broken-necked death.

"Ack!" the person squeaked, also grabbing the rail to stop form falling. "Oh, hey Lil!" No matter what I did, that dreadful nickname ran ramped. Wrenching myself with difficulty from my deep and consuming thoughts, I looked up at the person I had ran straight into. It was Naomi Dunes, my old tutor student.

"Uh, hey." I replied, distracted and without enthusiasm. I knew the blue-eyed girl would be scandalized by a dismissal, but I was too busy calculating my escape from almost-lovers to worry about the opinion of old acquaintances.

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you if you'd help me again. What, with O.W.L's coming up, I want to make sure I get my Charms down pat. It should be easy, with a few pointers from you…" She trailed off, looking hopeful, and no doubt expecting enthusiasm. Today, however, I had none to spare.

"Listen, Naomi." I said, hoping I didn't look as drained as I felt. "I'd be glad to, but can we discuss it another time? I'm kind of in a big hurry…" Just as I had foreseen, she looked positively insulted.

"Uh, ya. Sure."

I smiled gratefully, and hoped she would understand. "Thanks. I'll talk to you on Monday, alright?"

"Uh-huh."

I was getting the cold shoulder and we both knew it, but I was in no mood to care. I was too busy trying to plot my James-less escape to worry about such trivialities. As she continued up the stairs in a huff, I continued down, and crossed my fingers that he was not waiting for me below. That would be such a guy thing to do, haunt you. Or maybe not at all. I was too stressed out at the moment to consider any logical thought pattern.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I peaked around praying to gawd that he wasn't there. I couldn't face him… I couldn't face him… I couldn't face him… He wasn't there.

I nearly crossed myself in relief, thought better of it, then hurried out of the room before he managed to appear on the boy's staircase.

I began dashing through halls, trying to stick to those that would be the most crowded, so I had the least amount of a chance of being found. Apparently, though, Lady Luck had found me in bed with her lover, and boy was she pissed.

"Hey! Lily!" I froze, in the middle of the most crowded hallway I could find, sick with fear and apprehension. He had found me. I had hid but to no avail. That stupid cliché about running but not being able to hide fluttered through my mind. This was it. Fuck! though that seemed to be my problem, didn't it?

In one final ditch attempt, I ducked down and into one of the lesser known, and rarely used hidden passageways. I hoped to loose him in the crowd, and thinking vaguely that this way at least we would have privacy to our confrontation. I slipped behind the tapestry of Narsissus, lost in rapture with himself, and walked as quickly as I could. My hands were clutched into fists, my nails biting halfmoons into my flesh.

"Lily! Hey, wait up, wouldja!" If I didn't stop now, he would know I was running, and in my mind that was not a possibility. Sucking in as much air as my lungs would allow, I slowly turned around to face him as he caught up.

"Hullo James." I said, doing my best to stop my voice from wobbling. I would play this cool. I would say no. I would not crack. I would not crumble. I was in control. I wondered if even _I_ believed my weak words.

Coming to a stop before me, he just smiled and leaned down to kiss me, but I turned away, knowing that every molecule of my resolve would simply dissolve if I let him, so that his lips met with hair instead of his intended destination. His brow furrowed in confusion and he straightened up to stare down at me with baffled eyes. "No" was all I could manage to utter by way of explanation.

"Lily—what's wrong? I hope you're not mad about last night… I mean, I know it was all wrong, and in the _common room_ of all places, and then your friends walking in… You almost lost your virginity against a wall—" I burst of hard; cold laughter came from my throat. He thought I was still a virgin that was rich… I was no more a virgin than a prostitute.

"James, that has nothing to do with anything. I'm not a virgin, and I wasn't last night or a year ago either. Gawd, you're so naïve." I ran a hand through my hair trying to put myself together. I was calling a marauder naïve… what was the world coming to? "This is about me, not wanting to end up some blind housewife, like my mother. This is about me, not wanting a serious relationship. If I got involved with you, I'd end up over my head so fast that I would be drowning in all of it…in you. I'd loose myself in it, and I never want that again. So I'm saying mo. No no nonononoNO." I could feel the lump growing in my throat, but I wasn't going to let anything come of it. He wasn't going to see me cry.

My crying, however, was the last thing on his mind. His smile had vanished and the confusion had been replaced with dawning comprehension. "I though you loved me." Was all he said.

"I do!" I couldn't help but burst out. "That has nothing to do with anything." I told him, trying with all my might to hold my ground. "That's all the more reason to stay away."

"What do you mean what does love have to do with anything?" he ran a frustrated hand through his already messy hair. "Lily, for chrissakes, this is all about love, or we wouldn't be standing here discussing anything. I love you, god I love you and you love me, you've admitted it more that once. I don't see what your problem is."

"My problem is that it won't last! Lust wanes, and love crumbles away and then all that's left is a pair of bitter people trying desperately to reclaim their glory days. I won't be like that. I won't throw my life away on something so unstable…I—I can't…"

"Then you'll be pretty bloody lonely, all by yourself." He looked disgusted now, and worse, hurt. I rather he ranted and raved, yelled and screamed, then to see the disappointment behind his eyes. He turned to go, to stalk out into the hallway.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't leave it like this. I couldn't let him hate me, and I didn't think I could hate him again, if I ever really did. I couldn't do any of it… "James—wait!" The words were out of my mouth before I had made any decision to do it, or say anything at all, or perhaps worse, what to say next.

"What?" he asked, I looked at him, unsure what to say or do now. When I didn't reply, he did it for me. "You're afraid, I get that, but I won't chase you around if your mind is set. There's no use beating a dead horse. If you say no, then it's no. Now, what do you want?"

He stood there, awaiting a reply. A million and a half thoughts were racing through my head, each one contradicting the last. And so I did the only thing that made sense. I closed the space between us with a stride and kissed him, grabbing his shirt in my fists.

At first he merely stood there, but he soon reciprocated, pulling his hands down my sides, then back up, only this time under my shirt. And then I was pinned against the wall, and my skirt was around my waist… And this time, there were no interruptions.

What had I gotten myself into?

I stumbled out of that damnable passageway, more confused even than when I had awoken this morning. My thighs ached, my back hurt, and I had just fucked James Potter. I had absolutely no idea what to do with any of this. I had no idea where I was going either. The Heads Common Room was out of the question, as I could run into him there. Gryffindor tower, same. I didn't even want to think about my friends… No. I couldn't tell them any of this. I couldn't admit I had been so bleeding weak.

With my first priority being erasing any extremely damning evidence, I opened the first door I came to, and slipped into an unused classroom. I had to fix up my appearance lest anyone could guess what had just happened or just how screwed up my current situation was. I used a tweaked form of a Battle Cloning Charm to create a mirror of sorts, or else a moving hologram. I appeared before me, and was hard pressed to decide if I looked good or dead. My hair was all mussed and my lips were plump in the way only abusive kissing can create, red lipstick smeared around my mouth. My eyes were wide, it was true, but there seemed to be a certain shine to them that hadn't been present when I had loaded on my eyeliner that morning. My clothes were rumpled and half the buttons on my shirt were in the wrong holes, and my knee-high boots had never left my feet. It was impossible to decide.

Quickly I fixed my appearance, rebuttoning my shirt and wiping away the damaged makeup, before dispelling my reflection and leaving the abandoned classroom for gods know where. I had no idea where I could possibly go, only that I had to put as much space between myself and the scene of the crime. I ran. I couldn't think about what had just happened and I didn't want to deal. All I wanted was to be about to close my eyes without seeing the image of James' face as he came within me scarred onto the inside of my eyelids.

For once, James had seemingly thrown me a bone, and I was given a temporary distraction. He had not followed me when I ran, or in the least he had not found me. I began to feel nauseous and unclean and I turned into a side corridor, and unwilling to let anyone see me fall apart. I ran down to near the end, before sinking down the wall, exhausted and breathing heavy, my hair bunching up behind me. I would not cry, I would not cry….okay, maybe just a little bit…

I didn't want to do it, but somehow I couldn't stop, so I just let the tears fall, accepting it for now. I felt dirty somehow, like what I had done with James had made something crawl inside me and die, which was totally crazy. I wasn't any type of virgin. I had never cared about sex before, not in this way. It had never made me feel like I was going to ralph. Confusion was big at the moment.

"Lily?"

I looked up, like a cat that got caught trying to eat the canary….. or whatever the cliché was. At least this time, I thought bitterly, I wasn't caught in the act half-clothed and attached to his face.

"Lily, are you okay?" Regan asked, frozen at the mouth of the hall.

"Wha…uhhh, yeah, I'm fine…" I told her, full of shit.

"Ya….Uh-huh." She looked at me sceptically and began to walk down the small, dankly lit hall, towards me. "And I'm Professor Hall."

I was too flustered to think up any kind of retort, proving her point. Okay, maybe I wasn't fine, but I wasn't too keen to admit it, either.

She plopped down next to me, drawing her knees up against her chest and leaned her cheek down against them. Her hair spilled over her shoulder in a silky curtain, cutting away her view of all but me. She then began to stare at me intently. "You know that's bull. I know you too well, remember?"

I sighed and met her eye for a moment before shaking my head and turning away and sighing again. "I can't seem to make myself stop."

She looked at me with wide blue eyes for a moment, obviously with no idea what I was talking about. "Hun?"

I continued, not really hearing her. "I hate him, I _hate_ him, I mean I think I do. I've been telling myself that since I don't even remember when…. But….but when I try and tell **him **that, I don't even get the words out, like my throat doesn't work right anymore…. I can't make myself work right when he's around…. I can't tell him no, I can't make him stop, heck, I can't even make myself stop for chrissakes! I can't even make myself want to!"

"Who—Oh Lily, you don't mean…not James…"

I jerked out of my trance at his name, and stopped speaking. She seemed to get the message just fine.

"Do—uh, do you love him?" she asked me tentatively.

I looked up at her, my eyes running with tears that I don't remember ever starting. "I—I don't…know….I think I do, I said I did, last night and I…I meant it. But I….Gawd, Reg, I'm just so confused…."

"Last night? What happened last night?"

"I ended up against the common room wall…"

"Did you….." she paused tactfully. "What I mean to say is, uh—"

I saved her the trouble of finding a politically correct way of saying something that wasn't politically correct to begin with. "Not last night, no, but this morning, about an hour ago."

"You did…_it_…with him…just now?" She looked almost awestruck, on a lesser scale.

I wiped at my eyes angrily, and then nodded, my cheeks wet again almost as soon as I had scrubbed them dry. "I just feel so dirty, you know…and I don't know what to do. I feel wrong…" I looked at her. "I'm…wrong…Tell me that I'm wrong, please. I—I can't be me, I don't do this. I'm the good girl, I don't screw up or screw around…So I have to be wrong… I have to be wrong…Regan…" I collapsed onto her shoulder, sobbing and barely choking my words out. "I—I—I'm wrong. I feel dirty and—and like I—I don't even know….I haven't-haven't got a clue…." She hugged me awkward.

"Do you love him?" she asked me again, like she thought or knew I had a better answer than I did.

"I—I…" Did I? I didn't even know, but I was sick of that answer. "I do when he's around me, does that count? He-he makes me feel intoxicated and inhibited." I wiped my eyes again "Like I could, I donno, fly or something…Does that make sense?"

She shrugged as much as she could with my head on her shoulder, and then smiled, if only just a little bit. "I think so, Lily" she told me "I mean, if it isn't then I don't know what else it could be…I think it is…"

I nodded slightly, trying to dry my eyes at the same time and ended up with less to wipe this time. "We'll see…" I nodded again, and wiped my nose on the back of my hand. "I mean, I think, maybe…" I let my words trail off, unsure of where I was trying to go, or what I wanted…yet somehow I felt better and I guess that counted for something.


End file.
